


Return

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Ficlet, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Malfoycest, Parent/Child Incest, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What a Malfoy wants, a Malfoy gets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadySlytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySlytherin/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
> 
> Special thanks to LadySlytherin for betaing for me. ♥

He hesitates at the door, but when it closes, Draco Malfoy is standing on the right side.

Scorpius Malfoy smirks to himself; he knew his father wouldn’t deny him—he’s never heard a ‘no’ in his life.

When Draco walks across the room, his movements are slow and stilted; there’s none of his usual grace. He stops just short of the bed, swallowed in the darkness that envelops everything. He’s still wearing his robes from work, and his hair is gorgeously mussed from the hard day. Scorpius longs to rub his shoulders and ease his tension. Scorpius is in only a thin, white negligee, and tiny, frilled panties. The negligee is translucent and just barely reaches the top of his groin. Scorpius is lounging on his father’s bed, with his legs curled to the side and his hands resting lightly on his ankles. He wears all of his desire on his face, trying to be as irresistible as possible.

Draco licks his lips and murmurs, voice deep and vaguely stern, “Scorpius...”

“Father,” Scorpius drawls, voice dripping honey and cutting him off; Draco nearly flinches.

Draco looks simultaneously like he wants to scold him and ravish him. Scorpius is desperately hoping for the latter. He can see the guilt in his father’s eyes, but he doesn’t care. He knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t care about that either. Scorpius was raised to believe that what a Malfoy wants, a Malfoy gets. And Scorpius wants his father, hard and warm atop him, as nothing short of a lover.

Draco sighs heavily as he shrugs out of his robes, tossing them carelessly over the back of a chair. He sits down next to Scorpius and the bed dips with his weight—Scorpius instantly moves to help loosen his father’s tie. He helps undo the buttons of his shirt and even slips off the bed to remove his father’s shoes, leaning his body in too far. Draco attempts another warning, “Scorpius...” But Scorpius just bites his lip and looks up pleadingly, and Draco cuts himself off again. He was never any good at denying Scorpius anything. Pleased with the victory, Scorpius leans his head in and kisses his father’s crotch.

Grumbling, Draco shoos Scorpius’ head away and stands up again to step out of his trousers. As soon as they fall to the floor, Scorpius happily lifts up on his knees, nuzzling into the boxers his father is still wearing. Draco gets rid of them too, and then Scorpius sticks out his tongue, wanting to taste the cock that made him.

Before he can, Draco grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging him away. Scorpius whines as he’s pulled back, but he sits down obediently and doesn’t try again. He’s precocious but still well behaved. He was raised to respect his father, so he waits for Draco to climb into bed before he asks hesitantly, “Father, please...?”

When Draco doesn’t immediately say ‘no,’ Scorpius bounds up to his feet, rushing onto the bed. He slips under the silver sheets and green duvet, chewing his bottom lip and waiting to see if he can snuggle closer. Draco turns to him, silhouetted by the starlight shining through the dark curtains and drawls, “...Scorpius. You know this isn’t right.”

Scorpius barely acknowledges this—it’s definitely one of Draco’s weaker protests, Scorpius knows. He’s been wheedling away at this, and Draco is wearing down. Scorpius can see in his eyes that he _wants_ it; the desire has always been there. He just has to know it’s _okay_ , and Scorpius insists, “It _feels_ right.” When Draco sighs again, Scorpius adds, “Father, I _love_ you. And you love me. And you treat me well and you make me happy—isn’t that what you said I should look for, that and that alone? What does it matter what the rest of the world thinks? We’re _Malfoys_ ; we have different rules. All that matters is that we _love each other_...”

Draco reaches out a hand to stroke Scorpius’ cheek; Scorpius instantly mewls and leans into it. Seducing his father has not been easy, and every time an unsolicited step is taken towards him, he absolutely _melts._ Draco’s hand trails down to thumb Scorpius’ chin, so like his own. He whispers, “You’re a very naughty child.”

“ _Your_ naughty child,” Scorpius practically moans, lifting his own hand to lie atop his father’s. His hands are smaller and softer, and he intertwines their fingers as best he can. He shuffles closer on the mattress until their knees brush, sheets ruffling. He’s on the edge of his pillow now, and he waits. After a moment, Draco sighs and meets him halfway, one leg unintentionally sliding between Scorpius’. Scorpius gasps, rolling his hips into it.

Draco slides his arm under Scorpius’ side, curling it around his back, holding them flush together. Draco’s forehead rests against his, and he breathes quietly, “Those were your mother’s.”

Scorpius nods softly and presses his panties into his father’s naked cock, crooning, “I can do for you what she never could.”

Draco smiles. He brushes back Scorpius’ hair, and when he leans in for a short kiss, it’s all Scorpius can do not to burst. It’s only chaste, only quick. Draco’s lips are slightly rough and a little moist, and very, very warm. They linger an extra second too long. When he pulls back, Scorpius tries to follow. “You’ve always done that,” Draco insists, holding him back by the hair. They’re so close that Draco’s breath ghosts across his face. “No one’s ever made me as happy as you have...”

Scorpius swells with pride and utter adoration, and he begs, “I’ll always do that, Father—you don’t need anyone else. I’ll do _everything_ for you...” He pulls his father’s hand back to place a firm kiss to the palm. Draco pulls him closer so their chests touch, and Scorpius gasps. He can feel his father’s nipples rubbing into him, and the silky negligee is trapped between their skin. His own cock is hard beneath his panties, and he’s ecstatic to feel that Draco’s isn’t entirely limp either. Before he can stop himself, Scorpius is rubbing into it shamelessly.

He purrs with fluttering lashes, “Father, I want you so much...”

Something breaks in Draco’s grey eyes. Scorpius can see it even through the darkness, and a cringe dons on Draco’s face as he crumbles. It’s a losing war, he knows. He lunges forward suddenly, tilting his head just in time and smashing their lips together. Scorpius parts his in a loud, rapturous moan, admiring the way his father’s tongue commandingly snakes into his mouth. Draco rolls them over as quick as the kiss, so that Draco is fully atop Scorpius and pressing him into the mattress. Scorpius wraps his legs around his father’s waist, arms climbing up his father’s strong shoulders, tongue submissively bending wherever his father pushes it. Draco kisses him violently and grinds into him furiously, and Scorpius is a writhing puddle of ecstasy. He feels foolish for wearing panties. He wants to feel his father’s hard cock against his own, and he’s so hard himself that he’s leaking into the sheer fabric. Draco kisses like a sex-god. It makes Scorpius heady and _wild._

Draco doesn’t once part their lips, not even long enough for Scorpius to moan his name. Instead, his skilled fingers slip down Scorpius’ body, touching everywhere and caressing every centimeter. His hands slip beneath the negligee, grabbing and twisting his son’s nipples, then running down his chest to dip along his waist, squeezing fiercely at his hips. Scorpius moans at everything, arching into each touch. He’s never felt so blissful in his life, and he doesn’t ever want to let go.

Eventually, Draco parts them long enough for Scorpius to pant in air; Draco’s kissed it all out of him. Draco continues kissing his face, all along his cheek and jaw, into his temple and over his neck. Scorpius is a puddle of elation. Draco’s voice is now an odd mix of care, devotion, and feral hunger, and he drawls hotly, “Do you want to be full of the seed that made you?”

Scorpius’ eyes flicker with pleasure, toes already curling. He moans, “Yes, _fuck yes._ ”

Draco dons the trademark Malfoy smirk, but the only thing in his eyes is love.


End file.
